


Let the Dye Fly High

by misura



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ben Solo Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, F/F, Family Fluff, Hair Dyeing, Senator Leia Organa, Young Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 11:44:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16094987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: You'd think raising a son would be easier than saving the galaxy,Leia thinks.





	Let the Dye Fly High

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kimaracretak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/gifts).



_You'd think raising a son would be easier than saving the galaxy,_ Leia thinks as she surveys the situation. It hasn't improved in any way she can detect since the last time she checked, but, as they say, hope springs eternal.

_Rebellions are built on hope. Families - well, those are a bit tougher._

Amilyn looks amused. Leia scowls at her, mostly to keep from smiling back, from giving in to that (treacherous!) part of her mind that only wants to sit down and start laughing.

Ben looks purple. Very, very purple, from head to toe.

Leia wonders where he got the idea that in order to dye his hair, he needed to strip. (She has her suspicions, indeed she does, because naive as he might be, Ben is his mother's son - both his mothers' son, and as such, he doesn't give his trust lightly. Once given, though, his trust is absolute.)

"Well?" she asks. The carpet still seems non-purple, more's the pity. Leia's been wanting to replace it for months, but without a better justification than 'I don't like it', she hasn't felt comfortable spending the money.

"I miscalculated," Ben says.

Amilyn makes a sound. Leia doubles the strength of her glare.

"In what way would that be, precisely?"

Ben hunches his shoulders in that way she keeps telling him not to. "I used more dye than was necessary. I will pay to have it replaced. Or, if you wish, I will go and buy a replacement myself."

Amilyn is at once hopelessly picky about her dyes and relentlessly adventurous. Leia has no idea how, but she's known Amilyn to find a way to dye her hair while stuck waiting for rescue on an uninhabited jungle planet.

Leia has no idea where the purple stuff comes from, but she suspects it's no place to send a teenager in need of punishment and discipline to.

"You're not going anywhere, mister."

Ben hunches his shoulders a bit more. "I already cleaned up the bathroom."

"And it was very good of you to do so without needing to be told," Leia says. She tries to sound warm, kind. Patient. "But Ben - "

"I don't know what more you want me to do!"

Being a Jedi means to master one's emotions rather than be mastered by them. Jedi are a lot like politicians that way, though Leia doubts any member of either group would appreciate the comparison.

Ben still has a long way to go. Days like these, Leia wonders if perhaps she should have sent him to Luke after all - except that Ben is her son. She can't stop Han from leaving when he wants to leave, and she has no intention of stopping Amilyn when she knows what the work Amilyn is doing means to the Republic, but she'll be damned before she sends away her own son for no good reason.

"Pick a better color," Amilyn says.

Ben deflates. Leia starts breathing again. "I like purple."

Amilyn smiles. Amilyn is very good with both children and hot-shot pilots, as well as other assorted never-do-wells and rascals. Leia suspects it's because Amilyn's been all of those herself.

"Ben. I understand that you made a mistake, but you're still grounded for a week." Amilyn's fingers flash a signal. "Two weeks," Leia amends. There's no quick, easy signal to ask if it's really going to take two weeks for the dye to come out, but she defers to Amilyn's superior experience in this.

Ben sighs. "Yes, mother."

"Come with me, and we'll see if we can find you a color that goes with your outfits and skin tone," Amilyn says, linking her arm through Ben's.

_Thank you,_ Leia signs.

Amilyn gives her a quick nod and drags Ben off to her cabinet of dyes.

Leia supposes that if there's anything worse that looks worse on Ben than purple, she'll find out in another few hours, probably when she'll be meeting a few dignitaries for an informal dinner or thereabouts.

_Oh well. If they can't handle a broody purple-and-who-knows-what-else teenager with a penchant for dressing all in black, they definitely won't be able to handle something like the First Order, in which case, we don't need them anyway._


End file.
